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In Mother Markon...
Grand Plaza - Markon - Cybertron Underground A vast open space, the Grand Plaza is the social center of Markon, where its citizens and visitors from across Cybertron gather to shop, celebrate, and relax. The thick crowds make navigating fairly difficult. Street performers re-enact famous battles and glorious victories while people make way for marching formations of Markon Guard units. The plaza is divided by canals created to divert and control the underground river. Patriotic art is the order of the day, as the plaza is decorated with countless murals of Markon heroes like Comissar Pandroas and the Technobots defending the city into final victory against the vile Primatives of Darkreach. Markon, the gleaming jewel of Cybertron, literally hiding in the rough. The amount of activity is in direct contrast to its architecture- for the most part, largely gun metal gray and martial. However, there are almost constant parades, and squads of soldiers marching this way and that, firing off fireworks and waving signs proclaiming the glory of Markon and the strong leadership of Commissar Pandoras. Patriotic music is piped in everywhere: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fMDXl36gypw Even in the Governor's Hall, where our heroes are gathered, several guards are stationed, standing as still as stones, holding banners depicting victory. The symbol of Markon, the yellow Autobot sigil against a yellow star on a red background is everywhere. The Autobots are joined by their escort into the city- a rather menacing looking Titan class mech that somewhat resembles Scattershot, who was introduced as Tremendous Brutal. He stands at attention, waiting for the arrival of the Commissar. Rodimus Prime looks almost dwarfed by Brutal, standing at a smart 'parade rest.' Dealing with Pandoras was rarely pleasant- Markon saw itself as Autobot but not. Pandoras considered himself outside of Iacon's chain of command, insisting instead that the two cities were allies against a common foe. Some instances of this independence were obvious: their Autobrand, for instance. Other signs were slightly more devious. Prime makes a quiet sigh. "Your friends close..." He smiles politely up at Brutal, and waits. The hovercraft shudders, then folds in half. Imager stands up from around it, her ramplates becoming her pauldrons as the last step. Orange Payloader just shared a questioning look with Tracer and Holepunch sitting on his shoulders at the mention of the name 'Tremendous Brutal', but didn't comment on the matter. Not that the name didn't fit the mech. Just.. it doesn't sound all that Autobot-y. Except maybe to a Wrecker. Tracer, on the other hand, mutters something like "In prison a name like that would be called compensating for something..." Holepunch leans over to look at the other Nebulon past Scoop's head. "Compensating? For what? What are they being paided in return for?" Tracer rolls his eyes as the joke goes over Holepunch's head. "Nevermind." Orange Payloader just shared a questioning look with Tracer and Holepunch sitting on his shoulders at the mention of the name 'Tremendous Brutal', but didn't comment on the matter. Not that the name didn't fit the mech. Just.. it doesn't sound all that Autobot-y. Except maybe to a Wrecker. Tracer, on the other hand, mutters something like "In prison a name like that would be called compensating for something..." Holepunch leans over to look at the other Nebulon past Scoop's head. "Compensating? For what? What are they being paided in return for?" Tracer rolls his eyes as the joke goes over Holepunch's head. "Nevermind." The payloader more or less stands up on its end and folds the shovel back to become a heroic robot. Imager is on her better behavior for now, the Prime's here after all. She has her arms crossed, and sticks to the back row, not exactly being a diplomat or the like. "I don't think I've been here before." She says offhanded, "Don't like being away from the surface though, an the water ain't exactly friendly either, but 'side from that, looks like a nice place." Imager shrugs, ""So...yeah," Rewind is here, filming everything with the video camera attached to his helmet. The small cassette-bot stands near the others, but just a little off to the side so he can get just the right camera angle to get Rodimus at his best with a Markon banner in the background for context. He overhears Imager and comments, "Don't worry! Did you know there's only a .0578 percent chance of flooding in a place like this? Unless of course, someone accidentally breaks one of the mining industry's leaching pipes.... in which case... well, you probably don't want to know the odds then." <'Autobot'> Imager says, "Yeah, you don't wanna tell me those sort of odds there, little mech." <'Autobot'> Grimlock says, "Never tell me the odds kid!" <'Autobot'> Rewind says, "But knowing is...half the battle... or something. Some guy in an army outfit told me that once." <'Autobot'> Wraith says, "I also heard the other half is red and blue lasers." There is a guy here who... looks like he turns into an 8-track. An 8-track cartidge. Despite that, he is HUGE. And blocky. Also grey. He booms, "Hah, water will put METAL on you, little bots!" He seems to be addressing Imager and Rewind, who both seem to be equally 'little' to him. Torque has pretty much been marveling the entire trip, a dazzeled look in the femme's optics at the extravagent parades and the overall wealth of the city. "This place is amazing!" The medic does her best to keep her voice down, though it's clear she's excited by how big her smile is. "I wonder if I can pick up some new tools here, maybe some materials so I can finish that project. Hmm.." She ponders to herself, getting lost in her thoughts, though she quickly shoves them aside and glances over to Prime with a curious, unsure look. "So Prime.. You really think they'll be willing to help?" Rodimus Prime glances down at Torque. "I wish I had an instant yes for you, Torque...But not every mech in Markon is as straightforward as Scattershot and his team." He steps down from Brutal to address his group. "Be pleasant. Be polite. But don't show weakness. If someone asks you to drink with them, by Primus you do it. I don't want to start a three way Great War today." "If there is drinking involved I hope someone is designated, because I don't trust -any- of you driving yourselves while under the influ--ow!]" Thankfully Holepunch's snobbish rant is brought to an end by Tracer reaching over to smack the back of his head with one hand. "Well, if it comes to that, we know who to let them drink 'em under the table!", Scoop chortles, flashing a optic wink in Torque's direction. Imager squints as she looks down at the little mech. "Hey look..." She puts her hands on her hips, all akimbo then leans down, "Ya call me short again and imma find a really big pencil and unwind you." She gives him a warning finger point, "This is one of those sit'ations where a mech bites off a whole lot more than he can chew, get me?" She stands back up, then looks over her shoulder at...oh...Torque and gives a shrug, "Mechs. Always worried about their T-Cogs." Wraith is busy keeping an eye on the surrounding areas, paying particular attention to the various assortment of backroads, alleys, and other such avenues of quick getaways that might be available... It's just what he's prone to doing. Not that he's overt about it at all, mind. In fact, he's simply listening to the various conversations going on around him as the group gets escorted to their destination, lingering towards the fringes of the pack, as it were. The group's entertaining enough without him adding his own flavor of insanity into the mix. For now, at least. Speaking of drinks... Minibar comes by. He turns into a minibar, which is what he does, here and now. He demands, "Drink up! You are too little for Autobots!" A bunch of energon shots appear on the surface of his bar. Most of them are clear and smell rather strong, like paint-stripper. A few of them are glowing green and look like they were refined from plutonium. And then there are the pitch black ones... Combat: Wraith compares his Courage to 75: Success! Rodimus Prime flashes a smile at Minibar. "Ah! Thank you. Pandoras is always so generous to his guests." He gestures to the rest of the group rather severely to get a drink. Combat: Rodimus Prime compares his Courage to 75: Success! Rewind keeps filming Prime. He'd nod to Rodimus' orders to behave... but that would mess up the filming, so he doesn't. The cassette-bot keeps walking around, filming various mechs, banners, trinkets... anything possibly interesting. It's ALL interesting to him. Then he's offered a drink. Hmmm... it's a lot of drink for a small cassette-bot... but Rod's orders are orders, right? Maybe he can just sip some and not get totally plastered. Hopefully. He looks over and ponders which to try.... Rodimus Prime reaches for a shot glass of black liquid, all smiles, and raises it to the room. "To our generous host, to Iacon's twin city, bound by blood." He saluts to Brutal, and takes the shot. He takes a very long pause, and looks in the empty glass. "Well, I don't know why I would have expected anything else..." Combat: Rewind compares his Intelligence to 75: Success! Torque nods and flashes an assuring smile at Rodimus. "Don't worry, I'm sure we can convince 'em." Turning back to the others, Torque catches that wink from Scoop and beams, chuckling bashfully while rubbing the back of her neck. "Heh, glad you have so much confidence in me." Imager gets a little snicker, but Minibar shows up before she can offer a reply, the femme perking. "Huh, that was fast. Well then.." She takes up a shot of the glowing green one and downs it like a seasoned drinker. Combat: Torque compares her Intelligence to 75: Failure :( Imager smirks, "Good hospitality here, yeah I'm up for it." She looks over the tray, her hand tracing over the black drink first, "Might mess up my fueltanking, that one...ehhh...." She picks up a clear one, then hefts it properly before downing it. Combat: Imager compares her Endurance to 65: Success! Wraith is, naturally, drawn towards the darker of the drinks offered up. There's even a faint grin as he watches Rodimus go for the same dark brew. "Indeed." Taking the glass, he returns the toast and hardly thinks twice about downing it in one go. "Hmm... well, that was rather anticlimactic." Combat: Scoop compares his Courage to 75: Success! <'Autobot'> Wraith says, "There is something distinctly familiar about this drink." <'Autobot'> Rodimus Prime says, "I wouldn't ask..." Tremendous Brutal claps an arm around Rodimus and roars, "Ah, yes, the taste of VICTORY is sweet, is it not? And then clanking, percussive, violent music starts playing, a sort of march. All the Markon Autobots become very quiet and transform to salute. In tromps in a Transformer who looks rather like Cherno Alpha with a beard. His whole *bearing* is a scowl. He turns his gaze upon Rodimus Prime, and he barks, "Little Matrix Bearer! What brings you forth from soft Iacon to the STRENGTH of Markon? Do you tire of decadence?" He slams down one of the black shots. <'Autobot'> Wraith says, "It tastes like something I've had before." Scoop also takes one of the black shots. Imagine that, drinks were just mentioned, and here they have a guy SPECIFICALLY for that. "Well wouldn't want to knock the generousity of our hosts, now would we?" He lets Rodimus make his toast, and then gulps down the dark liquid without a second thought. He sets the shot glass back down on Minibar. "Now that is how you start off an evening." There, obligatory drinks out of the way. "If we drive home I am overriding your controls for our own safety". Stop being a spoilsport, Holepunch. <'Autobot'> Imager growls. <'Autobot'> Imager says, "wait, are these guys on this channel?" <'Autobot'> Rodimus Prime says, "I wouldn't doubt it." Rewind tries to draw on all his knowledge of energon and decide which drink would make the most sense to indulge in while not getting so drunk he embarrasses himself or the others. The green drink reminds him of radioactive plutonium energon, and if THAT guess is correct... it might actually be the safest bet, believe it or not. It will create quite a burn going down... but won't affect his mental facilities TOO much. ...He hopes. Anyway... "Did you know "Salud" means "To your health?" in human Spanish?... Well, Salud!" He toasts everyone and drinks the shot. Hmmm...not bad! Wraith sets the emptied glass back on the counter, indicating a refill is requested as he turns towards the speaker. There's a faint grin as he listens to the boastful banter being offered. "Decadence is overrated. Everyone knows for the best results, you need to get down and dirty where the real work happens." He glances back at the drink... oh-so-familiar. He'll probably place it before the evening is over. <'Autobot'> 8-Track says, "Our beloved comrades, you have nothing to hide from us, da?" <'Autobot'> Imager says, "yeah yeah, just checkin, security stuff" <'Autobot'> 8-Track says, "We are all ONE in the fight against Decepticon fascism." <'Autobot'> Scoop says, "Good to know you've all got your ducts in a row." Torque has never been to Markon, so it's fair to say she's never had this drink before. And honestly, you never know what'll happen with new drinks, and how they'll effect each individual mech. This is probably explains what happens next. "Not bad." Torque says in admiration while overlooking the shotglass. "Tastes pretty go- Ergh.." Her systems cycle it and almost instantly she feels like she got hit by a ton of bricks, the femme wobbling on her feet before she grips onto the larger Imager to keep from falling. "Guhh, I don't feel so good.. What's even in that drink? Hrk!" Her optics nearly cross when pushing off of the femme and clapping a hand over her mouth, nearly sprinting for the front door to purge outside. Rodimus Prime clinks glasses with Brutal. "And how!" If anyone ever looks to closely, they might realize that Rodimus is sort of lame. And then, the doors to the hall open, and the procession begins. He smiles, standing at a polite attention as Pandoras enters. Respect the mech in his own hall, but don't let him forget that Prime is Prime, no matter what part of Cybertron you're on. "Commissar, it's been too long." He crosses the room to close the distance between the two, embracing Pandoras by the shoulders. "I believe you've most of my entourage- including Torque, one of our best and brightest mechani..." Torque dashes by to vomit. "Mechanics. The Guild Leaders will love her. My apologies that Scattershot isn't present- the Technobots are on assignment off planet. I know you were looking forward to seeing him." Arcee has arrived. Imager shrugs as she looks at her empty glass, "Eh, makes me wanna get my enerstill..." She looks over toward Prime grimacing, "broken...yes..broken, and totally not anywhere that'd be illegal...." She turns her back on the big bot, distracted enough NOT to start something. "Hey Torque, you know wh....where're you going?" Imager scratches her cheek, then sets the drink down, "Whuu?)]" She turns to regard Pandoras, returning back to something close to attention. After he's had a moment to actually pause and consider the taste of the drink, Scoop eyes the glasses again. He can't place it, but something starts to seem a little... off. Hmmm. But the thought is interrupted by the Commissar's booming arrival, and then Torque turning to run off. Whoo boy. "Tracer, would you?" "Yeah, sure thing." Tracer hops down from Scoop's shoulder and dashes after Torque to make sure she's okay. Scoop turns back to the others. "I think she just got over-excited being here. Even the most stout drinkers can get a sudden gag influx." Commissar Pandoras embraces Rodimus Prime heartily. However, at the introductions, he looks scornfully at the retreating figure of Torque and mutters, "Such lightweights you bring to Markon. My factory wouldn't even manufacture such a delicate trinket - it would triple the armor on all the plans!" A guild leader, who looks like an ATV, grumbles, "Scattershot cannot even make time for us? Why have we made time for this!? " But another guild leader suggests, "Perhaps he is busy, hip deep in Decepticon corpses." "Only hip deep?" protests the other, arms thrown in the air. But, all that aside, Pandoras agrees, gesturing widely, "It has indeed been too long, my friend. I start to forget how you look - and then your paint scheme burns it into my optics all over again, haha!" Wraith takes his refilled Eau d' Con and sips at it, still trying to decipher just what it might be with more calculated tastes. Torque gets a... look. "Well, that was unexpected." He narrows his optics before looking back at the Commissar, giving him a once-over appraisal look. Robust. Boisterous. Seems like a stand-up mech. The casual talk about Scattershot and the perceived body-count does bring a faint smirk... and suddenly the drink gets placed. Oh... so that's what it came from... He takes another drink and grins. Tasty. Combat: Wraith compares his Intelligence to 90: Failure :( "Hip deep to all five Technobots would be up to the shoulders of a normal mech.", Holepunch points out, trying to be helpful. But just leaves Scoop thinking he should of sent the other Nebulon to check on Torque instead. Well, we don't want to look like bad guests, so he takes another of the dark filled shot glasses. Notes the other two types as well. "Interesting assortment of drinks you've provided." Rewind watches Torque race outside to vomit, and decides that's one video he's NOT going to get. Then a hand comes to his faceplate.... But no, no... in his quest to record everything... there are *some* things best left to the imagination. Well... maybe. He turns back to the mini-bar, filming that, Pandoras' grand entrance, and then heads over and films Scoop sending Tracer off after Torque. Okay... then back to Pandoras- with a pan over towards Rodimus to emphasize the paint job Pandoras just mentioned. Finally, over to Wraith, who is suddenly grinning. "Enjoying yourself?" he asks conversationally. "I tried to the green one... it was actually quite good!" Arcee is here, with the official entourage, to schmooze with Commissar Pandoras. She puts on her best, brightest smile. But in reality, she absolutely can't stand diplomat work. She thinks it's kind of like playing cards, only lamer. She'd much rather be out on a patrol, or even sparring in the training room. She takes an offered drink, with a cordial smile, then she glances over at Wraith briefly. She pretends to sip, but doesn't actually drink anything in the glass. Hopefully, Arcee thinks, there will be a convenient vase or planter she can dump this into later. Imager puts a hand under her chin, "Tripled armor plating eh..." She says aside to...no one really, "I've been eyeing those pistonmammoth tusks something fierce too...now I know where to go to get the work done." She grins fiercely, then slams her hands together, "These guys just sold me." Minibar asks Scoop brightly, "You like the drinks, yes? The black energon is only for special occassions, we cannot get enough of it... but the green energon, it comes from plutonium! Fruit of the earth, mined deep in Cybertron! Delicious! Nutritious! The clear energon, it comes from the hydroelectric plants," in the dirty water, yeah, "triple-distilled for potency!" Rodimus Prime smiles, accepting the teasing graciously. "Someday I'm going to sell you on the merits of flame decals, Commissar. And I wouldn't judge too harshly on Torque- she'd give Brutal a few scars to remember her by." He turns back to the front of the room so that the two can walk side by side. "You've met most of the Autobots in my entourage. Rewind, our archivist. I believe Scoop won your wall smashing contest at the Mark Games two cycles ago...Arcee, Imager...and Wraith, who your technicians running the Core might be interested in meeting." "It's a pleasure to see you, Commissar," Arcee says in her politest tone, as Rodimus mentions her to the city leader. Thankfully Torque isn't outside for too long, coming back inside soon after with Tracer beside her. "Er, thanks for coming out to get me." She thanks the Nebulan with a smile, though it quickly drops in favor of mortified embarrassment. "Primus, that was humiliating.. I hope no one saw." Aaaand there's Pandoras now. Great. Cue awkward mode as Torque tries to compose herself and look as if nothing happened when rejoining the group, though there's clear indication that she's still feels a bit humiliated. Well, at least until Rodimus backs her up, the mech earning an appreciative smile before looking to Pandoras. "It's an honor to meet you, sir. I've heard so much about Markon, and it really lives up to it." Heck, she'd probably live here if she could. Commissar Pandoras walks with Rodimus Prime. Archign an optical ridge, he asks, "Now, would she? Perhaps that would be something to see, but you have not come here for games, my friend. Speak plainly! This run-around, it is not like you. Where is the headstrong cavalier who would dive into the guts of Unicron alone? The Autobot who threw Galvatron through Unicron's eye and into another solar system? You are STRONG, Rodimus. Cease this dissembling." Wraith finishes his follow-on shot and palms the empty glass, glancing at Arcee. There's a moment where he's simply giving her a perplexed look before sliding over and setting the empty glass down. "Be mindful what you taste, it is a bit...potent to the uninitiated." There is a momentary glance towards Rodimus and the Commissar as his own name is mentioned, and he offers a polite nod to Pandoras before the higher-ups resume their conversation in earnest. Wraith looks over at Rewind and grins faintly. "Hah, the green? From what I heard of its composition, it would be far too tame as a follow-on to what I have already sampled." A guild leader, Grind, who transforms into a big mill, greets Torque and Wraith, "Ah, a mechanic? And a power specialist? Yes, yes, there is much to discuss. The electric plants, sometimes, all they need is a good KICK, but sometimes... ah, I think the Decepticons may be sabotaging them!" Because it's not like the plant workers might be embezzling. Nope. Gotta be Decepticons. Arcee nods to Wraith, suddenly glad she's chosen not to drink a single drop. Then she notices Torque returning. While she's never met the other femme before, she *knows* that look of embarassment, and she instantly feels for her, because she doesn't want to be here, either. "Those walls totally had it coming!" Scoop replies with much gusto. He's about to go into his usual shpeal about how his AWESOME shovel is someone else's work, but stops himself when Imager mentions her own armor and impressiveness with the locals' implied work. He can brag about Quickmix's metalurgy anytime, let her hopefully make a good note with the locals. The mention of hydroelectric plants does get a curious perk from Holepunch, who use to work in water purification facilities. The water they could -not- clean was the stuff they dumped out to power the plants. "And what method do you use for the distillation if I may ask? Scoop, all too willing to make idle conversation while the leaders shmooz, turns back to Minibar. "Oh really?" He takes a sip of the dark liquid again. "What makes it so hard to come by?" He hasn't made the connection that Wraith did yet. Rodimus Prime nods after a moment, almost flustered at how much truth there is to Pandoras' jab. "He's here, Commissar. Rodimus Prime- your Prime- has come to your city, Pandoras- not a child. Perhaps rather exhausted with dealing politicans and galactic business men, but the Heir to the Matrix, nonetheless. I'm here because the citizens of Crystal City are rising up against the Decepticons. Without the proper arms, they're lost. I want a Markon blade in the hand of every rebel standing up to Galvatron's Empire. This could be a key turning point in the Great War, Pandoras. Finally. Some true momentum." Imager only raises her head when Rodimus mentions her in passing. So that's why she came along. She makes a note to pay a bit more attention in the briefings in the future. Following up on Torque's line, she gives a casual salute, the type with two fingers , "Uh, yeah what she said. Nice place for the most part." When Grind steps forward, she blinks as if suddenly finding herself useful, "Hey, yeah, I can do that. Imma Energy Efficiency expert and scrap." She sort of steps in a bit closer to Grind than Wraith, just to get her point across. "One of those things I do when not breakin Cons over my knee...." Minibar chatters with Scoop, "You see, we heat it up in vats, and it evapourates up into colling towers. The heaviest and lowest grades condense sonner and are sperated out at the bottom, the medium grades at the middle, and the light grades at the top! And we do this three times, bang bang bang, for nine grades. But aaaah-h, for the black energon, we need Decepticons, you know? And as many as we kill, it is not enough. Their energon, it is sweet and pink and violet, and feh, only good for /cocktails/," he says it like a curse, "But their joint lubricants..." Wraith hands Arcee the empty glass he's holding as an offer to trade. Whether Arcee takes him up on the discreet offer or not, he's very quick to join Grind after. "Efficiency expert? We must talk one of these days, then." He turns to Grind and smiles thinly. "While efficiency may be what my companion here specializes in, I am more knowledged in the flow of power itself. You could say... I eat, sleep, and drink it. If you require assistance, by all means... lead the way. I'm sure between the two of us, we can come up with something helpful." <'Autobot'> Imager says, "Wraith, you couldn't jettison power if it were cycled through your exhaust ports." Rewind waves up to Commissar Pandoras as his name is mentioned. "Greetings! You have a remarkable place here!" Still filming, he looks around, recording interactions. As Wraith responds, he leans up and over to get a good look at one of the black shots. "Heh...yes, the green one's probably pretty tame, granted. But you don't want a drunk archivist, believe me... all the Autobots would get would be recordings of the bottoms of shot glasses and blurry images of people's feet. Possibly some footage of anything that sparkles or emits random light fluctuations. Believe me... it wouldn't be watchable." Nonetheless, he is tempted to try some of the back stuff. "Any idea what this is?" He asks Wraith. Then looks over to Torque. "Feeling better, Torque? I've always found some ginger-enerale helpful for times like those..." Arcee suddenly sees what Wraith's trying to do, and she very casually trades glasses with him, in one smooth movement. <'Autobot'> Wraith says, "Is that so? Perhaps we should test this theory one cycle." <'Autobot'> Imager says, "yeah, I think so too." As Minibar explains Scoop looks back to his shot glass. Then to Minibar. Then to his glass. Then shrugs and gulps down the rest of the drink anyways, despite the somewhat squicky connotations of its origins. Got to keep up with making the good impression, after all. The things he does for his people. "Well at least they have something useful, am I right?", he replies to Minibar afterwards, trying to make a joke of the notion. Commissar Pandoras looks Rodimus Prime over keenly, as if searching him for defect or weakness. The Matrix credentials he respects, yes, but it doesn't *impress* him much. He is a hard, cold mech, of rationality! Sure, Pandora will admit that Rodimus blew up Unicron and lit the darkest hour, he'd have to be crazy to deny that, but he feels that religion is an energon goodie for the masses. Now that Rodimus has finally got to the point, Pandoras is silent and considering. And then he laughs, and echoing, scraping sound, like the clang of metal of metal. "Oh Prime! You know not what you ask. Darkreach and the Terrorcons march on Markon. I cannot leave my people undefended. One of mine may be worth of five of theirs, but they come as a horde, as many. Markon will not die to give you your peace." <'Autobot'> Wraith says, "I do hope you leave pleasantly shocked." Oh hey, Arcee's here. The pink is pretty hard to miss, drawing Torque's optic a moment. The other femme gets a friendly smile and a wave in greeting, but Grind's sudden appearance pulls her away when he addresses her. "Hm? Oh! Well, I could certainly have a look once we're done here, if you'd like." She offers, though Imager and Wraith suddenly stepping up to the plate leaves her a bit pushed back, though she doesn't complain. If they need her, they'll ask for her. At Rewind's question, Torque looks over and smirks, nodding his way. "Much better, thank you. And that's alright, I think I'm good. Just never had that sort of drink before." Rodimus Prime shakes his head. "They've marched before, Pandoras. Hell, there were stacks of fresh Decepticon bodies piled outside of the North Gate when we arrived. We're a part of a global conflict, not a regional one. We do what has to be done." Grind is happy enough to talk with Imager, too, in addition to Torque and Wraith. The mill-bot chatters, "Efficiency, you say? Yes! Cutting waste keeps us STRONG. We must not grow soft. To be soft is to die. We must be hard, like tempered carbon steel! No excess." Imager was just about to rib Wraith about something when Pandoras says something interesting. Her gaze shifts over to him before Grind captures her interest again, "Yeah, course. learned it mid-war but its a good a job as any...." Something piques her interest further, "You guys were down here durin the Shutdown then? Cuz me and the Female Autobot cells, we was on the surface and were having a smelt of a time trying to keep supplied...." A hint of dismay fills her tone as she asks. How many Bots could've died for nothing? Commissar Pandoras waves a hand and notes archly, "Yes, yes, I know, the stacks, they must be taller. And so we must go back to work. You care about all of Cybertron, Prime, and so." "So, you care about nothing. These 'local conflict," he does the air quotes, "they are just little figure-mechs on your battlefield. You push them around, and they are toys in your hands. You sacrifice one territory to gain two, and you are well-pleased." "But these toys, to you, they are my people," he thumps his fist against his chest, "and their lives are not yours to throw away. If you want Markon steel in fragile hands of Crystal, I must have assurances. Darkreach must be diverted and distracted long enough for us to ramp up weaponry production. Or there is no deal." Rewind nods to Torque. "Heh, yeah. It's understandable. Chemical components affect different people in different ways. Even strong people, like you. There's no shame to it." He appears to grin good-naturedly under the faceplate. Rewind listens to Grind talk to Torque, Imager and Wraith. "Oh, tempered carbon steel? So... that's steel with more than 1.2% carbon content, right? It's really good for knives, axles, and punches. In fact, did you kn..." His voice trails off as he realizes this is probably not the time or place for fact recitals. "Uh... I mean. Do go on! This is great footage!" He rests his hands under his chin, propping elbows on the bar, and just watches- and records. For now. And now the political/military debate is starting to get interesting. Not much of one for politics, but Scoop does know his military. Even though, to be honest, the technical conversation is more interesting. Rodimus really looks like he could use the support more, even if wouldn't actually ask for it. "Thanks for the drinks," he remarks to Minibar as he puts his glass away, and strides confidentally over to give some morale backup. "He's not entirely out of his place for questioning, Prime." Scoop makes sure to use that instead of just calling him Rodimus in a chummy manner. This is official, after all. "He does have a point. You can't ask for everything from him, and not be expected to not give something in return." Grind explains to Imager, "Long, long, we were locked in battle with the primatives. You know some of them as the Terrorcons now. the rest, they became the Decepticons of Darkreach. So many died... but not enough! For they harry us even today." So yeah, they were awake during the Shutdown, just... locked in a stupid underground war with the Terrorcons. Wraith walks along with Imager, Torque, and Grind, keeping a watchful eye on his surroundings. "Well, then let us see if we can't find a way to make things solid and uncompromising, yes?" He frowns at the plight against the Terrorcons. "Reprehensible things, very uncouth and terribly vicious. Some of my more engaging moments involve them." Ultra Magnus has arrived. Air Raid has arrived. Semi-Cab transforms into his Ultra Magnus mode. And now it's Prime's turn to be hotheaded. "Toys? This isn't a game, Pandoras. You left the surface to escape the war. You left us. I haven't forgotten that. I can remember the names of every Autobot I've lost since I lost Optimus, Commissar. This is no game to me. You've hid behind your walls and carried out your vendetta and..." Some wise words cut in. From Scoop, of all places. Rodimus takess a moment to compose himself. "And in the end war makes fools of us all. Accept my apologies, Pandoras. We both spoke the truth- it's been too long since we stood together as friends." He tosses a grin at Scoop. "Scoop, you feel like running down some Decepticon hordes with me and the big guy over there?" He gestures to Brutal. Imager frowns, "That's pretty bad....Wish we could've joined forces durin that timeframe, could've saved some lives and..." Her words trail off. Her frown deepens as she looks away, "an nuthin else matters I guess is what I'm sayin." Somber Imager takes a moment to reassess herself. Arcee makes her way around the room, mostly listening to the conversations already in progress, and pretending to 'drink' from an empty glass. She gives a little finger-wave to Torque as she passes, not wanting to interrupt her conversation. She pauses to lean up against the wall and listen in on the increasingly-tense conversation between Prime and Pandoras, wondering if it would be poor ettiquette to intervene somehow. Torque nods to Rewind with a light smile, glad at least he understands. Unfortunately her attentions have since wandered a bit from the conversation between Imager, Wraith, and Grind, the medic looking off towards Rodimus and Pandoras as they speak. Weaponry production, eh? Hm.. With a twitch of her antennas she's pulled back to reality and looks up at Grind, interjecting in the current conversation. "Sorry to interrupt, but I'm told you have Guilds here? Where are they, exactly? And er.. is anyone allowed to join?" When Rodimus Prime's temper starts to show... Commissar Pandoras actually grins fiercely. Ah, so Rodimus still has some spirit to him, behind the pretty words! So there are still things that matter to him! He is not merely some Rear Echelon Motherboard Fragger, content to send mechs to their deaths. There is hope for him. For now. Pandora reaches out to clap Rodimus with another hug and admits painfully, "...yes, perhaps we ran. It is true, what you say. I cannot take back what I did not do. I can only make up on lost time, here and now!" Ultra Magnus appears like the man of all things diplomacy and public relations related that he is and quickly looked around to take in the situation. You can tell he's mildly tempted to offer some unwanted advice to Rodimus, but time has shown the autobot leader in more than handle his own in a debate. So instead the city commander calls back to what he always does when he's outside of the city. He imagines how he would manage things if this was his city to command. "My shovel is -always- ready to mow down Decepticons for the greater good." There, Scoop finally got to mention his shovel. "We can work together and push those hoodlums back into their hole for the better of not just Markon, or Iacon, or Crystal City, but for -all- of Cybertron." And then he turns a bit, so he can address all the Autobots and Markons present at once. "A wise human once said that a divided house cannot stand. I think its time we took this house and put it back together." There's a pause, and then he thrusts a fist over his head. "AND THEN DROP IT ON TOP OF THE DECEPTICONS!" Combat: Scoop inspires Rodimus Prime, Arcee, Wraith, Torque, Imager, Rewind, Ultra Magnus, and Darkness with lofty and noble words! Combat: You feel more courageous! Rodimus Prime takes a glass of whatever it is a server hands him and takes a shot, nodding. "Here and now." He takes the shot, and addresses the room, pointing at Scoop. "What he said!" Grind nods somberly and grabs a clear shot and down it, saying sadly, "For the dead." But she explains to Torque, "The guilds are all. I am head of the Mechanical Guild. We ensure that Markon stays running smoothly. To join a guild... well, almost everyone in Markon is in a guild! Each cog in its right place! I suppose, if a new bot were to be built, he would need to join..." Grind is not thinking that Torque might want to join. Torque will need to be a bit more blunt. Grind cheers after Scoop's speech, which was deeply stirring. And then she does another shot. Wraith raises the drink he acquired from Arcee and, in response to Grind's remark, downs it. "To the dead." He looks at the empty glass, setting it aside. Lacking a proper drink to toast Scoop, he simply offers a grin and enthusiastic fist-pump. Because...stuff like that gets mechs inspired, right? Rewind sees Ultra Magnus appear (and really, how can you NOT notice him arrive?)... the small cassette-bot hops down and strides over to the big Bot and looks up. "There are some excellent drinks over at the mini-bar, Ultra Magnus. I'd kind of... recommend the green ones, personally." He turns as Scoop makes a speech, and records every minute of it. When he's done, he is DEFINITELY inspired... but not just the words. They are true, and wonderful, and inspiring on their own, but.... Also- that speech just made this whole video project that MUCH BETTER. ***VIDEO SCOOOORE.*** "YES!!! Thank you, Scoop!" He fist pumps in the air, then goes back to recording. Arcee looks over at Scoop in surprise, then grins slightly. "I think I'll drink to *that*," she says -- but then she remembers, she took Wraith's empty glass. Well, darn. Torque doesn't have a drink right now, so she instead raises a fist when looking over to Scoop, a grin on her face. "Here here!" She cheers amongst the others, spirits feeling a bit higher and confidence boosted. Turning back to Grind, Torque squares her shoulders, looking more sure of herself, and nods sternly. "Then I'd like to join your guilds, if possible. I want to help out where I can here, and maybe learn a new thing or two from you Markonians." "Now that we've got that settled." Scoop grins up at the Comissar. "Prehaps you or one of your fine warriors would be willing to show us where you expect the fight with Darkreach to come from? A good soldier makes himself familiar with the field of battle beforehand." Now that is blunt enough for Grind to understand! She looks momentarily confused and points out, "But you are an outsider!" Minibar points out, "But ALL are ONE!" "Yes, there is strength in unity!" Grind declares, clenching a fist. "To join the Guilds... to understand Markon... I think that you must hunt a Terrorcon, yes, and forge a weapon from his parts. Is that well with you, Comrade Torque?" Wraith looks at Grind. "If that is all it takes, well... count on me joining one soon. That should prove to be a fun undertaking." Grind laughs happily and tries to give Wraith a hug. "Ah, such enthusiasm, Comrade Wraith! It is good to hear. And you drink so well, too. I think perhaps we should have spoken sooner, your Autobots and ours." Fighting Terrorcons isn't easy, but if that's what it takes to be part of a Markon Guild, then Torque will rise to the challenge. With a curt nod the femme holds a hand out to shake. "I accept. Consider it done." She's unsure if Markonians even shake, but should Grind accept she'll find Torque's grip to match her own. To Wraith she smirks, "Maybe we can hunt some together then, eh?" Either way, she'll have to find a Terrorcon somehow. Hopefully that won't be too hard. Ultra Magnus gives Rewind a curious look, followed by the tiniest of nods. "Perhaps I'll order some. Bottled, for later consumption," he adds. Because Ultra Magnus does his drinking in private. Returning his attention to the proceedings, Magnus leans his head down and murmurs, "Perhaps we should pick up something for the Technobots while we're here...any ideas?" Wraith smiles at the hug. "I've had my share of practice, Comrade. You should know how it is with those of us down in the maintenance tunnels. We're tough through and through." He looks towards Torque and gives a nod. "Agreed. It's been a while since I've had a decent hunt." Grind looks delighted by the idea of Torque teaming up with Wraith. She shakes Torque's hand firmly and enthuses, "Yes, in teamwork there is strength." And then she tries to give Torque a hug. They are very huggy here. Rewind nods up at Ultra Magnus. "Sounds like a wise plan. You may want to use a reinforced steel or lead container to keep the radioactive parts ...well, contained." He rubs his faceplate, considering what the Technobots might like. "Well...hmmm. There's a lot of mining and weaponry produced here... perhaps we could look for some high-quality alloys or minerals for their own technological wiring? Or, failing that... just bring up some of that black energon. Gifts of high-grade always go down well.... in more ways than one." He pauses. "Well, unless they... don't. Maybe the green stuff would be safer, come to think of it?" Torque pretty much expects the hug, seeing as Wraith just got a dose of it. And she gladly accepts, grinning and patting the other femme roughly on the back as a chuckle escapes her. "Guess we'll have to head out soon then to find one. But first, I think I wanna get a better look at your city. I'm eager to pick up some new tools." Whether Grind joins her or not is her decision, but Torque soon strikes off into the city to do a bit of touring. Grind will cheerily extol the virtures of Markon to Torque, serving as tour guide. One quirk that Torque will find is that they don't really use... currency here. She can barter for items, but Torque will likely find that she is simply freely given gifts most of the time. Scoop comments over his shoulder towards Rewind "Why not a mixed gift package?" Then goes off to take a look at the sort of place they're actually expecting the fighting to take place and put some of his military know-how to use. Rewind throws up an index finger. "Good idea! They can drink- and tinker around. Or... maybe tinker around... then drink. Yeah, that might be better." He looks up to Ultra Magnus. "Yes! Let's get a gift assortment. That way, each technobot can probably find something he'd like." Ultra Magnus nods in agreement. "All good points. Two orders of the 'green' stuff then, along with a few assorted munitions." Magnus pauses. Hopefully not to be used together. Or by Computron. Minibar fills Ultra Magnus's order for... "green stuff", and he explains, "It is plutonium-derived energon!" For weapons, someone else comes forth, "Munitions, for the Technobots? A thoughtful gift!" It's that ATV from earlier. They start dragging out some crates. You say, "Sounds good! It's better than a T-shirt than says "My friends went to Markon and all I got was this stupid T-shirt." Made even stupider, I guess, because Cybertronians don't usually *wear* T-shirts...." The cassette-bot watches Minibar complete the request, and gets in a few last shots for his B-roll. Never know when you'll need to fill in somewhere during audio playback." Ultra Magnus tries to keep his face neutral when Minibar explains what's in the green stuff. To take his processor off of the thought he examines the crates of weaponry. Wait a munute, -crates-? Finally Ultra Magnus' expression turns to one of long-suffering acceptance. "Overall, the trip here serms to have had the desired result," he remarks, and this time he has to work to mask his surprise. The Markon Autobots take Ultra Magnus's look of suffering to mean that he must want MORE crates of ammunition. Obviously, they didn't give him enough the first time! So they give him more ammo crates. Arcee makes her way back over to Scoop and Rewind are having a discussion, trying (but ultimately failing) to really get into the diplomatic spirit of things. This just isn't her kind of trip. But she is giving it her best shot. Rewind looks back towards the others. "Yes, I think it did. It was a little bit touchy there for a moment, but I think alliances have been made- and strengthened... which was kind of the point, after all. And we will be able to face the Decepticons working together, instead of arguing... or worse." He chuckles a little as they receive yet *more* crates, then waves to Arcee. "Enjoying yourself? I'd recommend the green energon, by the way." After glancing around to make sure no very important guild members or other VIPs are nearby, Arcee lowers her voice and says quietly to Rewind, "I'm not drinking *any* of this energon. I'm sure it's perfectly fine, but..." Okay, she's NOT sure if it's perfectly fine. It made Torque kind of unwell! "I'm going to pass." Rewind grins under his faceplate. "Heh heh, yeah...I.. don't really blame you, Arcee. And I think the proverbial ice has been broken already, after all. And f anyone gives you a hard time, tell 'em one of the drinks we're buying here is for you, to enjoy later." Arcee nods. "OK, sounds like a safe bet. I'm trying to 'look' polite...see, Wraith supplied me with the empty glass, here, so I've just been...circulating, is that a good word? Circulating amongst the dignitaries. I'm trying to figure out how mechs actually do this for a living; I guess some of them do." Ultra Magnus finally holds up his hands. "I think that's enough," he tells the Markon arms dealers, tone apologetic but firm. "For -this- trip," he adds to soften the words. He gives Arcee a sideways glance and then looks in the direction Torque left. "Didn't Torque just leave to go Terrorcon hunting...?" "Hope to see you back, soon!" says the ATV, when Ultra Magnus says "for this trip". Arcee nods to Magnus. "Oh yes, I think she probably did, but prior to *that*..." She gestures toward the door. "I don't think the drink agreed with her systems. She looked really unwell." Rewind places an elbow on the table and cups his chin in his hand. "Some mechs do nothing but "circulate". Yeah... I'm not sure how they maintain the... energy for that. Or the big smiles. Though the times I've been stuck filming the big political events, they do seem to all enjoy listening to large amounts of trivia. ...provided it agrees with *their* view of the woorld, of course." He pokes at a black energon shot, still considering it. "Yeah... circulate, hobnob, rub elbows... it's all the same. Just... remember to smile and look like you're enjoying yourself. Of course, if you're like me and have a faceplate.... you don't have to smile as much, thankfully." He appears to be doing so, anyway. Ultra Magnus's comment gets an excited look around. "SHE DID?!? Oh mech... I WANT TO FILM THAT!" "Well, you'd better hurry, Rewind, I think she already left," Arcee chuckles. Ultra Magnus nods. "Yes. That sounds like an adventure worth recording." And if Torque isn't fully recovered, he thinks to himself, another Autobot along to keep an optic on things couldn't hurt. Rewind looks up at Ultra Magnus, then slams a fist down on the table. (Which, given his size, isn't very earth-shattering, but no mattter...) "By Gumby, you're RIGHT!" He gives a cheerful farewell wave to the big Autobot, then jumps down and runs as fast as he can to follow along after Torque. Adventure awaits, and he's gonna record it! <'Autobot'> Arcee says, "Confirmed Blast Off sighting in Tarn Region. He has a special interest in this area..." <'Autobot'> Springer says, "Kick his aft." <'Autobot'> Arcee is probably smiling. <'Autobot'> Wraith says, "Is someone fighting without me?" <'Autobot'> Springer says, "... She doesn't need any help." <'Autobot'> Air Raid snorts. <'Autobot'> Wraith says, "Of course not. But as a Decepticon, Blast Off will undoubtedly call for assistance." <'Autobot'> Springer says, "Or. She'll kick his aft. Like I said." <'Autobot'> Air Raid says, "Sittin' on your aft Springer? Go assist!" <'Autobot'> Springer says, "Or. She'll kick his aft. Like I just said that I just said." <'Autobot'> Wraith says, "Personally, I should like to hear from Arcee that all is well." <'Autobot'> Arcee says, "Right now, it's all under control. Just wanted to make a note of it." <'Autobot'> Springer says, "... I'll bet you would." <'Autobot'> Arcee says, "Springer." <'Autobot'> Air Raid laughs. <'Autobot'> Wraith sighs. <'Autobot'> Springer says, "I'm off to blow somethin' up." Wraith moves to the River Gate - Markon. Wraith has left. <'Autobot'> Springer offline. <'Autobot'> Air Raid says, "Just holler if you need help Arcee." <'Autobot'> Torque says, "You can count on me, Fort Max, sir!" <'Autobot'> Fortress Maximus says, "I'm pleased to hear that. Send me a list of the personnel that you need and the resources that you require. I'll be sure to allocate them to you."